


Camera

by Kylie Lee (kylielee1000)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, gaze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-02
Updated: 2008-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:31:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylielee1000/pseuds/Kylie%20Lee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel imagines the camera's gaze. Sex on base.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Camera

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: thegrrrl, a hurricane
> 
> AN: Response to Ximeria's AAA Sex on Base challenge. Dedicated to Sarah, to celebrate her new job, just because I think she'll like this one.
> 
> Originally posted February 28, 2004.

"I'm thinking about your cock," Daniel said.

He leaned his head on a hand and watched. It was maybe a second's reaction, nothing more, but it was there: Jack froze. Daniel suppressed a smile. Then Jack, eyes still on the document he was reviewing, deliberately turned a page over.

"Are you now," Jack said. He didn't look up.

"I am," Daniel affirmed, because he was.

"I've never liked that term." Jack closed the manila folder and stacked it to his left. He pulled one off the stack to his right and opened it. "Cock."

Daniel took a sip of coffee. "I didn't know that. Is there a term you prefer?"

Another page rustled. "Dick. Penis. Manhood. Rod. Rooster. I don't know."

"'Cock' connotes power."

"I didn't know that," Jack said.

"And I'm all about power. Because I've got a cock too. Throbbing. Demanding. Powerful. Very…demanding."

"Cut it out, Daniel. And stop staring at me."

Obediently, Daniel turned to his computer. He wiggled his mouse so his screen saver wouldn't come on. "How did you know I was staring at you?"

"I can just tell."

"It's my throbbing, demanding power, isn't it? You can sense it."

Jack selected another folder. "Oh, I can sense it all right," he said darkly. "Quit fucking with me." He pointed a finger at Daniel, and finally, finally, Jack looked up. "I mean that figuratively."

"Seriously, Jack." Daniel rolled his chair back. Jack didn't look pissed off at him, despite his words. Mostly Jack looked tired. It probably wasn't fair to mess with him, but Daniel had been going over some video he'd shot, this time with a UV filter, and had once again found nothing, so it had been a waste of time after all. They'd planned to work through the night, and so far, things were regrettably going according to plan.

"No, seriously, Daniel." Jack patted a pile of folders. "SG-11 is heading on out to PX3-841 tomorrow, and it's our job to make sure they're safe. Their lives may depend on the briefing we give them tomorrow. And I mean that literally."

"And there's something in that pile of folders that will save their lives," Daniel said, trying for matter-of-fact and sensible when in fact he was annoyed that they were still on base, instead of at his place. Or Jack's place. Anyplace but here.

"Maybe."

"Well, I was there. SG-1 was there. We did the recon. We _wrote_ those reports." Daniel swatted the side of his computer monitor to emphasize his point. "And spending all night here in my office going over data that we ourselves generated is not my idea of time well spent. What's important is the synthesis we've done—our thoughts, our take on the situation. And that, you just know. Or you don't know." Daniel watched Jack turn back to his review of the soldiers' statements. It was ridiculous. Jack had deposed the soldiers himself. "So I was thinking I should just go home. But then I started thinking about your…rooster."

"Cock-a-doodle-do," Jack said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Think all you want if it makes you happy and keeps you out of trouble." He gestured. "Take a look around. You can think all you want, but there's no action to be had, unless you want it all on tape."

Daniel resisted the urge to turn his head toward the surveillance camera. Cameras were everywhere in the mountain. Certainly the cameras had allowed them to solve more than one problem over the years. They busily recorded the activities of everyday life in their stop-motion manner, clicking a frame every second or so. The one in his office, discreetly small, was located above one of the bookcases. It was pointed mostly at the door, to track comings and goings, but he'd reviewed the footage often enough. He knew exactly what the camera saw. Jack, for instance, was way over in one corner, small—barely in the frame, concealed behind the big, blocky extra desk.

"They don't record sound," Daniel pointed out.

Jack looked up. "What?"

"For all the camera knows, we're talking about PX3-841. See, right now, I'm making some big—" Daniel thumped his desk—"big, important point. About PX3-841." He waved at his computer. "And now I'm telling you about something I found during my review of the videos I made of the artifacts. Something really, really crucial to our understanding of—of the entire universe."

"Daniel, what was in that coffee?"

Daniel nodded vigorously. "And you made a statement about my big, important point, and I agree with you. I heartily agree with you. And your statement. Whatever it was."

"Because you're trippin', man. Did you get some 'shrooms on PX3-841? Some alien fungus? Because that's against the rules." Jack tapped the pile of depositions. "And you're distracting me. I'm busy."

"Why, yes, I do believe I will take a look. Because of your point. Whatever it was. Whatever it was, it was really good." Daniel got up and crossed the room.

Jack looked over his shoulder. "Daniel, quit it."

Daniel leaned in. "Hmm," he said thoughtfully, brushing his arm against Jack's as he touched a deposition. "See, you tapped this report, and so of course I had to come take a look at what you were saying. And now we're discussing it. According to the camera." He frowned down at the open folder and ran a finger down the page, as if reviewing data. "So anyway. I wanted to go home and go to bed, but you wouldn't be in my bed, because you're here, so I imagined that you _were_ in my bed, waiting for me, and that's when I started thinking about your—penis."

Jack looked up at him and grinned. "I do like the way you think," he allowed. "You're—focused. Very focused."

"Yes, I am," Daniel said, closing the folder and pushing it aside. "At least take a break."

Jack leaned back. "I think I am." He watched, puzzled, as Daniel sorted through manila folders. Daniel made a show of looking at the tabs and chose a dozen at random. "What are you doing? Those are in alphabetical order."

"Not any more," Daniel said, hitting them against the tabletop to neaten them. "Okay." He turned his back to the desk, which meant that his back was mostly to the camera, and half-sat on the desk. He opened the top folder. "We're going to discuss these airmen. Oh, airwomen, excuse me. Starting with, um, Monica Luce here."

"I see," Jack said.

"Well, we're not really." Daniel pressed his leg against Jack's.

"Right." Jack dropped his hand and slid it around Daniel's leg, below the level of the desk. "We're taking a break, but it looks like we're hard at work?"

"You got it." Daniel half-turned and pushed a few folders out of his way as he made himself comfortable. Jack squeezed just below his knee. "We're going to talk about these folders one by one. These important, important depositions."

Jack looked at him expectantly.

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "So—say something back."

Jack removed his hand and put both hands behind his head. "I think you're about to declaim," he said. "I'm pretty sure you are. You know how you are once you get started. You don't shut up. If I say too much, the camera will know we're playing with it. So—go. Your turn."

Daniel closed Monica Luce's file and set it on the "done" pile. "Moving right along," he said. "I was sitting over there, thinking about what I'd like to be doing, instead of being here. And I was thinking of you fucking me. I was imagining what it would be like if we were here, late at night, on base, and no one was around, no security cameras. Because you'd have me across this desk. We'd have our pants down, but we'd be wearing our T-shirts. You'd grab my shirt and bend me face-down over the desk. You'd pull me wide and slide into me, and oh, god, it would be like—like you were splitting me open, taking me apart every time you shoved in. You'd have me wide open under you. You'd grab my hips and pull me toward you whenever you pushed, like you were—like you were just using me to masturbate, like you didn't care if I liked it, like you just wanted to use me to come, like it was all about how you felt, and the fact that you were driving me insane was just secondary to your need. But the thought that you needed my body like that, wanted it like that—"

Daniel lifted his eyes from the page and looked down at Jack. Jack looked impassive. Daniel set down another folder. He really did imagine, sometimes, that Jack was riding him, out of control, beyond caring about anything but his own pleasure. It was all the more sweet because usually, in real life, it was Daniel riding Jack, not the other way around.

"I'd hear you grunt," Daniel resumed. "Really low, every time you thrust, like you couldn't remember how to talk, because that's how good it felt to be inside me. I'd have my hands on the desk, and I'd be leaning forward, wanting it even harder, so I shove back a little when you push in, and it's like a little shock goes through my balls. I'm taking it and imaging what you look like as you pound me—your face all twisted up, your panting, your sweating. I make myself tight around you, and you moan and reach around and take me into your hand. You slide my shirt up and kiss and bite my back, and then you start fucking me again, and you rub my dick at the same time, and god, it's just too much—you're inside me, and I can feel your mouth, you're breathing hard and I can feel your breath against my skin. I'm so hard that I don't even need your hand on my cock."

Jack tilted his head and nodded. His pupils had gotten big, and Daniel could see the bulge in his pants. Despite this, Jack had the perfect poker face. Daniel could feel his own cock filling.

"I—I bear down, trying to sit on you, trying to get you so far inside me that you become a part of me, and oh, god, you're hard like iron, and every time you thrust it's like the tip of coming, but I haven't come, and I'm frantic. I want it so bad I'm frantic. You shove me down on the desk and you ram in, hard, hard, and you freeze, deep inside me, and I can feel every inch of you. I can feel it when you come, in tiny little bursts, and then you groan and you start thrusting again, and your hand squeezes my balls, and I come in a rush, all over the desk, all over your hand, all over my stomach, but it starts in that place inside me, that place your cock has been stroking. I can't breathe because I can't do anything but come."

Daniel took off his glasses for a second and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down. He'd gotten lost in the fantasy. Just thinking about Jack inside him had made him hard and horny. He didn't know what he had been thinking, because although it was fun to tease Jack, he was teasing himself too, and that was simply torture. Daniel turned to deposit another file folder on the pile. When he turned back, Jack was rubbing his hands against his legs. Daniel could see the thick bulge of Jack's cock, the faint sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

"Oh, Jesus," Jack whispered. "The, um, the bathroom. Can we make it to the bathroom?"

Daniel set down another folder. "I don't think so."

Jack pivoted the chair toward Daniel. "Shit, Daniel." Jack was trembling. "I want—"

"What do you want?"

"To taste you." Jack took the folders from Daniel. "I want to taste you. I want you to come in my mouth. I want that now."

"I want that too," Daniel said, and the very thought of the camera recording Jack as he knelt, right here, right now, and unbuttoned Daniel's pants and went down on him, without preliminary, made him even harder. There was no way they were going to make it to the bathroom for a quick grapple in a stall.

"I don't care about any of it," Jack said. He laid a hand in his lap, covering his own erection, and squeezed briefly. "The cameras. None of it. It's you. It's only you."

"I think I can come right here, just by looking at you," Daniel said. "You're starting to sweat. You're starting to lose your poker face. And I'm thinking about you on your knees, right now, and what it looks like when you have your mouth on me. And what the camera will record." He gestured as he spoke. "It'll record my back. It'll record you kneeling and undoing me. It'll record your head bobbing up and down as you suck me off. It'll record me putting my fingers in your hair, telling you what to do."

Jack parted his lips as his breathing got harder. He stuck a hand behind his neck and rubbed. "I think—I think you'd better tell me what you want," he said. "I think you'd better tell me what to do."

"Would you do it? If I asked you to suck me off right now?"

Jack hesitated. He wanted it as much as Daniel did—Daniel knew it.

"Yes," Jack said.

Daniel glanced at his watch. "Okay, then," he said. "Watch out. I'm going to be clumsy." Daniel pushed his ass off the edge of the desk. "Whoops," he said as he knocked into the pile of depositions. He imagined what the camera saw: Daniel, checking the time, his back to the viewer, clumsily scattering the pile as he got up to leave; Jack making an abortive grab, just a second too late as the pile teetered and slid to the ground, losing his own pile of folders at the same time. "I guess we'll have to pick these up," Daniel said. He balanced himself on the table top as he knelt. He looked into Jack's eyes. They were almost face to face, Jack sitting, Daniel kneeling. "Can you help me?" Daniel asked, eyes not leaving Jack's as he undid his pants. "Help me pick these up."

"Daniel," Jack breathed.

"Jack." Daniel ducked down, grabbed a few file folders at random, and tossed them on top of the desk. "Move the chair. Get down here. It's okay. The camera can't see behind here. Get down here now."

Jack rolled his chair back, clearing the area right behind the desk before joining Daniel. He was breathing fast, but even though he was obviously excited, he was still careful: he didn't stand up. He kept his lower body behind the desk. Daniel lay back, not caring that he was probably crumpling files. His cock felt enormous. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked luxuriously, because Jack was going to do it, and he was ready; he wanted Jack's touch. Jack pulled Daniel's briefs and pants down and knelt between Daniel's knees. He bent his head without hesitation.

Daniel moaned as Jack's mouth enveloped him. He was ready, more than ready, and the illicit locale, the thought that they, or at least the desk, were being recorded, the thought that someone could walk in, no matter how unlikely—all flooded his groin with power and warmth. "That's it," he told Jack breathlessly. He thrust into Jack's hot mouth over and over again, plunging himself into the tight cavern, impossibly huge, impossibly strong, until he felt Jack's hands leave the base of his cock and grab his hips, encouraging the thrusting, and the feel of Jack's fingers digging into him, tugging him toward Jack's face as though Jack wanted to devour him, as though Jack wanted Daniel inside him this way too, as though he could pull Daniel inside him, starting with his cock, pushed him over the edge. He came with a rush of blood in his ears, gasping as his cock squeezed powerfully, his heels digging into the ground as his ass lifted with the force of his orgasm.

Jack made a noise and released Daniel's cock before Daniel was quite done. He pushed Daniel's cock against Daniel's stomach as he fumbled with his pants, and Daniel automatically covered it with his hand as the last few drops of come forced their way out. He panted, heart thudding, the tail end of his orgasm spreading warmth through his body, as Jack released his own thick, heavy cock.

"Daniel," Jack said, rubbing himself as he bent to lick the come from Daniel's stomach.

Daniel put a hand on the back of Jack's neck as Jack kissed his belly, big, open-mouthed kisses, pushing aside Daniel's T-shirt. Daniel loved how his hand fit across Jack's neck, how Jack responded to the caress by dragging his tongue across Daniel's stomach. Jack could get off just by touching Daniel, and Daniel loved that excitement.

"Kiss me," Daniel said, and he drew Jack up, keeping his hand on Jack's neck. "I want you to kiss me when you come."

"Now," Jack gasped. "Oh, please. Now."

Jack pushed against Daniel, hips working, his breath catching, and Daniel pushed back, his mouth finding and taking Jack's as his free arm pulled Jack close, and it was just what Jack needed. Daniel felt wet warmth on his stomach as Jack thrust against him, out of control as he peaked. He could feel the strength of Jack's pleasure, could sense it coiling in Jack's body before it exploded outward. It stunned him—what they could do to each other, because of how they felt. He leaned into Jack's mouth, trying to tell Jack everything with their kiss. He was the one with the words, and now he had none. Everything was inadequate compared with that rush of powerful feeling, with Jack's body throbbing in ecstasy above his.

When Jack pulled back, his breath coming in harsh gasps, his face grimacing, Daniel slid his hand around and stroked Jack's cheek, feeling the faint beard. He loved to look at Jack like this, when all their defenses were down, when Jack was most his.

"Oh, god damn it," Jack said. He drew in a ragged breath. "Shit. God damn it." He put his face in the crook of Daniel's neck, muffling his voice. "I wanted that so badly. I wanted you so badly."

"Come here." Daniel slid his fingers into Jack's short hair and pulled his head over for a kiss. Jack still tasted like Daniel's come.

"The camera," Jack said after a minute.

"Jack, it's okay," Daniel showed Jack his watch. "Seriously. Three minutes. Four, tops. We're just stacking up the files right now, that's all. Just another minute back here, you and me, just the two of us."

Jack laid his head on Daniel's chest, his body heavy and inert. "That'll be some video," Jack said. Daniel smiled as he felt Jack's laughter through his body. "We'll have to get a copy. Maybe you can see a foot or something."

"Very sexy. It'll be like our very own porn video. Of a desk and a bunch of depositions."

"Well, we'll know what we did."

"I'll see if I can get a copy," Daniel said as Jack stirred. "We can watch the video of the desk, get all hot."

"Oh, yeah," Jack said lewdly. "Office furniture."

"I'm just full of the possibilities," Daniel said. "I think this inspired me. Offices. Kitchens. Bathrooms we've done, but bathrooms. Dining rooms. All those rooms. And your cock. Because that's all it takes—me thinking about your cock."

Jack rubbed his face against Daniel's chest. "Throbbing. Demanding. Powerful," he said.

"Exactly," Daniel said.


End file.
